A Gentleman's Wager (31 page)

‘She already knows,’ said Lucerne, forestalling Wakefield’s jumbled explanation for their sudden return. They were standing in the marble entrance to Lauwine as Joshua paid off the coachman. It was lunchtime and Lucerne had come out onto the steps to meet them. ‘A letter arrived from Garret Pryce this morning that explained what had happened.’

‘I don’t suppose he put it like this.’ Wakefield thrust the broadsheet into Lucerne’s hands.

‘No,’ replied Lucerne after he’d read the headline. He scanned through the remainder of the page.

‘Is she all right?’ asked Joshua as he joined them.

‘To be honest, I’m not certain she’s taken it on board yet. I think this will really upset her. The letter suggested it was just her investments that had gone bad, but it seems more than likely that the old man’s run off with her money.’

‘Where is she?’ asked Frederick.

‘She’s in the music room, I think. Please don’t make her miserable, she’s enough to think about already.’

‘I’ll try. Oh, and thank you, Lucerne, thank you most sincerely.’ Frederick dashed off towards the music room, leaving Lucerne and Joshua puzzling over his words.

‘For what?’ said Lucerne, looking questioningly at Joshua, who shrugged his shoulders.

Frederick stood at the door to the music room, while he wondered how to approach Louisa. She was sitting at the piano with her back to him, picking out a concerto. He couldn’t just blunder in and ask how she was coping; he had a difficult apology to make to her, one he felt deeply embarrassed about. He wished he could just tell her how beautiful she was, how much he’d missed her and just how sorry he really was, but he feared her reaction.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and she must have heard him, for she stopped playing immediately and peered over her shoulder. Frederick did his best to give her an apologetic smile, but only managed a sheepish grin. Her response was to snatch up her music file and slam the piano lid shut. Without saying a word, she hurried towards the other door.

Frederick was shocked. He’d never expected such an abrupt response from her. He had envisioned tears, cold anger even, but he had always presumed she would allow him to say his piece. ‘Louisa,’ he pleaded as he raced to intercept her by the other doorway. When he tried to grab her, she slipped and put her arms out to save herself, which sent music scores skidding across the polished wood floor. Her balance recovered, she glanced disdainfully at the sea of paper littered around them. Frederick bent to retrieve the sheets, but the moment he was on his knees she shot past him.

Too stunned to react, he watched dumbly for a moment, then his body seemed to respond of its own volition and the muscles of his legs pumped hard as he sprinted after her. He caught up as she disappeared through the doorway of her room. Only just in time, he managed to get a foot across the threshold. The door slammed into him, bringing a brief explosion of agony which turned his next breath into a hiss of pain. Undeterred, he put his weight to the wood and inched it open. It swung suddenly inwards as she retreated towards the bed.

Frederick closed the door and faced her awkwardly. He wondered how he appeared to her. Did she notice that he was thinner? That some of his muscle tone was gone? Did she see him as a rakehell, a reprobate? Was he even still attractive to her, or had he destroyed that forever? Even with her eyes red from crying he was still
moved
by her delicate beauty. She was everything he found most attractive: fine boned, fine featured, petite and extremely blonde. He felt the familiar twinge of desire he always got just from looking at her, despite all the tension between them.

How could he make this work? What should he say?

‘I’m sorry.’

Louisa glared at him with hard eyes. ‘You’re sorry,’ she threw back at him. ‘You come charging back from town and chase me to my room to say you’re sorry. Is that it?’ She paused, but didn’t allow him time for a reply. ‘I’m ruined, Frederick; what little money I have left is barely enough to pay off the servants and keep a roof over my aunt’s head, and all you can say is you’re sorry. Sorry for what, exactly? That I’m destitute or for sleeping with a harlot?’

Wakefield felt himself blush scarlet to the roots of his hair. He felt clumsy and stupid. ‘For both,’ he mumbled, as much to himself as to her. Her breath was coming in deep, heavy gasps, and her knuckles had whitened from clenching her fists so hard. ‘I don’t have an explanation for my behaviour. It was unforgivable. I don’t expect forgiveness.’ He stumbled for the right words. ‘I do care about you, Louisa. I wondered if there was anything I could do to help.’

She stepped forwards and paused uncertainly, then swung her fist in an arc, which connected solidly with his jaw. ‘You can’t, so you may as well give up and go back to your tart.’

Well, now, thought Frederick as he straightened his face, it can’t get any worse. She turned her back on him while she surreptitiously massaged her wrist, and he felt a surge of obstinacy.

‘I’m a soldier,’ he announced forcefully enough to make her turn back. ‘I won’t run from any fight, and I’m
prepared
to dig in for a siege. I love you, Louisa. I want you more than anyone else alive. Please listen to me. I’m begging you.’ He grasped her hand and dropped to his knees, holding on tight as she tried to pull free. ‘I never meant to hurt you. I was an idiot and I should have known better. I realise you can never forgive me after what I did, but I am sorry and I never stopped loving you.’

He watched a lonely tear roll down her cheek. It dropped on to his hand, from which it trickled into his shirt cuff.

‘Don’t cry,’ he said, and rose to embrace her in his arms. ‘Please don’t cry.’

He was overcome with relief that the worst seemed to be over, but her tears were nearly breaking his heart. She muttered something into his chest he didn’t quite catch between the breathless sobs, but it sounded important. ‘What did you say?’ he asked.

She looked up at him, her eyes strangely luminous but also serious. ‘It could have been you,’ she repeated.

Wakefield shook his head very slightly. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘Vaughan. I slept with him.’

Scalding anger licked at his skin, turned his face red and set the pulse at his temple racing. His back stiffened as all his muscles tensed. ‘Why?’ He forced the question out with his next breath.

‘You pleasured yourself with a whore. I wanted to hurt you back,’ she explained as the salt tears dried on her face.

‘So you slept with one yourself. You’re right, it does hurt,’ he said, pleased to find he sounded calm despite the fact that his mind whirled.

Vaughan! It was always bloody Vaughan. Why did it have to be him? He hated him. He’d never forgiven him
for
Austria. Anyone else, anybody at all, and it would have been better.

No, he realised. It wouldn’t. He’d have hated them just as much.

Louisa sniffed and tried to dry her face with her hands. He didn’t know whether to yell at her for being so stupid or to embrace her again. He looked at her for a long moment, debating the issue, then gave into his body’s whim and kissed her savagely.

She whimpered as his lips crushed hers, and dug her fingers into his arms. Wakefield pulled her firmly against his body and began to caress her. Her whimpers softened into tiny mewls from the back of her throat. He felt flushed and light-headed, painfully erect, but he couldn’t let his urgency spoil everything. He paused for breath and tried to steady himself.

‘I hated you, but I couldn’t make myself forget you.’ Louisa gazed at him.

‘Forget it. Forget them. You’re all that matters.’

Her eyes held deep azure rims around wide black pupils. Even over his own panting, he could hear her ragged breathing. He kissed her again, this time gently, though no less passionately, and her arms crept beneath the layers of his clothes until her fingernails dug into his skin. Then her hands were at his hips – at the fastening to his breeches – and over his cock. Without further ado, he pushed her onto the bed, pulled all the layers of cloth aside and entered her.

‘Louisa.’ Saying her name made it real.

He felt both joy and relief as her hands clawed at his buttocks and pulled him deeper. How different to voluptuous Millicent: tupping a plump tart was like sliding into a pool of water. Making love to petite Louisa felt like putting on a glove. He withdrew several inches and then penetrated her again, to relive the sensation.

Louisa’s eyes flickered open. ‘Hold me down,’ she begged, surprising him. Still, he pinned her down, his hands clamped around her wrists, then bucked into her. She writhed beneath him. Wakefield felt the thunderbolt of his orgasm start at the tip of his cock and forgot to breathe as it spread through him until he jerked suddenly, consumed by its power. White flashes filled his brain, and for a fraction of a second, he blacked out.

‘Will you give me away?’ Louisa asked Joshua a few hours later.

‘Of course,’ he replied with a smile. ‘It will be an honour.’

Lucerne shook hands with Frederick and congratulated him. Their argument was now long forgotten and they both seemed genuinely pleased to see each other.

Louisa tensed as Vaughan entered the room. She feared Frederick would make a scene, or Vaughan would provoke one. The room fell silent. Left with little choice, she took charge. ‘Will you wish us well?’ she asked as she gazed boldly into his fathomless dark eyes. ‘Frederick and I are to be married.’

The corners of Vaughan’s lips turned up into a smile. It spread to his eyes, and she realised that he was genuinely happy for her. ‘I’ve always wished you well, but congratulations all the same,’ he said amiably, then caught her by surprise and leaned forward to kiss her full on the lips. Louisa blushed. Frederick growled, and Vaughan let her go. ‘I told you so,’ he whispered.

He turned to the captain. ‘Wakefield, I hope you make her happy.’ He offered his hand and Frederick accepted it, after Louisa begged him wordlessly with her eyes. However, as she sighed with relief, Vaughan pulled Frederick into his arms and kissed him in the
same
way he’d kissed her. Only Lucerne’s laughter stopped another fight.

Outside, the breeze was cold and crisp; it nipped at their clothing. Two weeks had passed uneventfully since Wakefield’s return to Lauwine with news of Louisa’s financial ruin. Winter had reached the top field, and the wind whipped up a storm around them as Bella and Louisa walked arm in arm up the bank of grass. Louisa had been chattering continuously about wedding preparations and her husband-to-be, but finally she stopped for breath and took a good look at her friend. Bella’s face was drawn and weary. She had dark circles below her eyes and was still nodding dumbly, as if she hadn’t even realised that Louisa had stopped talking. Her green eyes were glazed and held a faraway look. Louisa realised that Bella was deep inside herself with some problem her friend had no idea about.

‘I’m sorry,’ she apologised, and gave Bella’s hand a squeeze. ‘I have been going on rather a lot. Is there anything you want to talk about? You seem troubled.’

‘No,’ sighed Bella, coming out of her trance. She forced a smile and seemed to try to shake off her glum mood, but her faked smile rapidly lost its hold. ‘I think it’s just the change of season. Let’s go down to the grove. I’m freezing up here in this wind.’

They carefully descended the slope while exchanging few words, since Louisa now found the conversation hard going. She was certain Bella was bottling something up, and felt awkward because she was so wrapped up in her own happiness that she’d forgotten everyone else. Being ruined was the most marvellous thing that had ever happened to her. Although she still got the odd twinge of worry about her aunt and the outstanding bills, she wouldn’t change her situation for anything. Frederick
made
her far happier than any inheritance. However, that didn’t help Bella.

She guessed the source of the problem: she knew her friend was a frequent visitor to Lucerne’s bed, but often he seemed preoccupied with Vaughan, and since Bella went out of her way to provoke the marquis it was clear that she was jealous.

They reached the sheltered valley on the other side of the hill and Bella turned to watch two dark spots in the distance. The sound of galloping filled the air and grew louder until Lucerne appeared and swept past them on his chestnut stallion. He saluted them with what attention he could spare. Moments later, Vaughan also thundered by. He swerved at the last moment and only just avoided running them down. Both men disappeared from sight around the edge of the wood.

Bella’s face lit with sudden interest. ‘Come on, let’s see what they’re up to.’ She tugged Louisa’s sleeve. They ran quietly up to the edge of the lake and hid behind the rhododendrons. For a moment, Bella seemed like her old adventurous self. In the copse of trees opposite, in the spot where Frederick had taken Louisa to see the swans and had first kissed her, Lucerne had Vaughan pinned against a tree.

‘What are they doing?’ Louisa asked, uncomfortable with the idea of spying on them.

‘Shhh!’ hissed Bella, not taking her eyes off them for a second.

Louisa reluctantly returned her attention to the men across the water. Lucerne leaned forward and appeared to whisper something to Vaughan. She didn’t understand why they were being so secretive when they must have believed they were unobserved, and they seemed to share an uncommon intimacy, which did nothing to quell her misgivings about intruding. Poor Bella, she
thought
. Her friend probably saw Vaughan as competition, and he wasn’t a rival anyone would want.

On the opposite side of the lake, the men had begun to wrestle. Lucerne was astride Vaughan, who was squirming as though he were being tickled. Louisa considered it an odd day to choose to wrestle, but each to their own. Frankly, she was more concerned about Bella, whose expression showed such a raw depiction of excitement and longing that it was blatantly clear that, if she could have, she’d have thrown herself between the two men just to be part of their rough games.

In the end, Louisa threw a rock into the lake. It made a large splash that Vaughan and Lucerne obviously heard, for they both rose hastily and slipped out of view, into the bushes.